Before and after and cap-tossing on the eve of an anniversary

It may be the least recalled front page of all time. Nov. 21, 1963.

That's 50 years ago today. Fifty years, minus one day, since the assassination of President John F. Kennedy in Dallas. It's the fuzzy, forgotten day before the day remembered with high-definition clarity by its witnesses.

You don't have to wade too far into this month's ocean of anniversary commemorations before running into the notion that Nov. 22, 1963, was a day that changed everything. Much of the tragedy's lasting historic power, the chill even those of us born later get from Walter Cronkite's choked pause, comes from its shocking, shattering abruptness. Before is altered dramatically by after. After, of course, gets all the ink.

So here's a bit of before.

On that Thursday, “Bipartisan Line Taken By Kennedy” was The Gazette's modest headline, but still above the fold, as the president began a three-day Texas swing.

His civil rights bill is roiling political waters in a state critical to his re-election. Some Texas Democrats supported it, but others, including Gov. John Connally, opposed it. That split looms over a big fundraiser in Austin on Friday night. An event never held.

Kennedy's space effort is taking congressional hits. Speaking in San Antonio, he recounted a story by the Irish author Frank O'Connor. As boys, out hiking, O'Connor wrote, when they came upon a wall or obstacle too big to overcome, they'd toss their caps over it.

Then, they had no choice but to follow after them.

“My friends,” Kennedy said. “This nation has tossed its cap over the wall of space - and we have no choice but to follow it.”

I like that story. What I like much less lately is all the stuff about how America is now a perpetually pessimistic, divided and cynical place. That Friday in Dallas, some insist, permanently jolted our confidence and darkened our outlook. I guess it's tough to argue. Just feast your weary eyes upon the Affordable Care Act debacle. Maybe we're simply not capable nor inclined to meet big challenges any more.

I concede we are more “whatever” than “what you can do for your country,” more “selfie” than big picture. But it's also true that not everyone in this country is shrugging off our problems, pretending they're somebody else's fault, or somebody else's job to fix. Not everyone is taking refuge in easy apathy and lazy hopelessness.

I'm not yet convinced that American optimism has a before and after. Maybe it's naive, but I think, on Nov. 21, 2013, we're still a nation of cap-throwers.